


drip drop

by cerealisnotasoup



Category: Justice League (2017), Justice League - All Media Types, The Flash - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 04:54:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17277443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerealisnotasoup/pseuds/cerealisnotasoup
Summary: Barry smiled.His mouth quirked up into a near insane grin. It felt good and he wanted more. He continued to assault his forearm and watched in fascination as beads of blood formed and dripped down.Drip Drop.The blood dripped.





	drip drop

heyo, this is actually the first fanfic i've ever written so that's pretty neato. i would like to point out this is triggering, it mentions past child-abuse, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts. so please if you know this is going to trigger you then kinda stray away. it's fairly dark and gory as well. 

(you don't have to read this but this is just information no one asked for, but i finally came around watching justice league the other day and sure it wasn't over the top amazing but i thoroughly enjoyed the characters and the potential each character had. also casting ezra miller as the flash was so spot in my opinion and i noticed there weren't many works on here including angst and fluff with the team. so i kinda got an account just to write some  
~~~~  
Somewhere in the depths of his mind, Barry knew the tips of his shoes were teetering dangerously too close to the ledge of the cliff.

But he couldn't find himself to care. Not one bit. 

Things were kind of coming in as a motionless blur for the speedster. He felt odd, but he didn't realize it. He felt sluggish which was practically the definition of irony for Barry Allen because not only does he have the ability to break the sound barrier with his superspeed but he's also swift to catch and understand things. This just wasn't one of those moments.  
He vaguely remembered ripping off his helmet and tossing it behind his shoulder, so he could grip his hair between his fingers. Maybe it was a bit too harsh or probably a bit too rough, but Barry couldn't find a ounce in his being to care. In that moment he liked the pain, he wanted the pain. It grounded him, his mind was sluggish, and he didn't like it, the pain wasn't. 

It came full-force.

It happened fast. 

He wanted more. Barry wanted more pain. He removed one of his hands from his hair and dug it in his forearm. He applied an immense amount of strength and trailed his nails from the crook of his elbow to his wrist.

Barry smiled. 

His mouth quirked up into a near insane grin. It felt good and he wanted more. He continued to assault his forearm and watched in fascination as beads of blood formed and dripped down.

Drip Drop.

The blood dripped.

It reminded Barry of his childhood. It reminded him of the countless foster homes that in one way or another drew blood from Barry.

Drip Drop. 

Drip Drop.

The blood continued to fall.

Barry's mind flashed to his younger self, hunched over with his naked torso. He could feel the tears roll down his chubby cheeks and drip drop to the floor. The force of the belt hitting his back made him loose his breathe, it burned. The blood trailed down. 

Drip Drop went his tears.

Drip Drop went the blood. 

His eyes flashed to seeing his disheveled teenage self in a mirror. He saw himself lift something eerily similar to his nails to his forearm. Only sharper.

Drip Drop went his blood.

Drip Drop went his sanity. 

Barry let out a wet laugh as he moved his other hand to his neck. His nails clawed into the fragile skin. He dug in fast and he dug in slow. The blood rolled down his neck, and over his collar bone. He could feel his fingers coated with it, smearing it. 

Drip drop went his blood.

Drip Drop went his sanity. 

It tickled Barry as it rolled down his face. It dripped from his nose. It dripped from his mouth. He laughed, he could feel it start to drip out from the back of his throat. The sickening metallic scent was all he could smell. It's all he wanted. 

Barry let his eyes trail down to the deep drop the cliff promised to withhold, it was beckoning him to come closer. He stared down it in awe as he kicked where he stood and watched a pebble float down so suddenly. That could be him. He wanted it to be him.

All he had to do was take two steps, only two. The mere thought was irresistible to Barry, he wanted it so bad. 

Just two steps.

Barry took the first step.

He was so close.

He let his eyes close shut, tears and blood dripping as he took half of the second step. He was almost there. 

"Barry!" 

Barry vaguely recognized his name, it was close, but it was far. It was reaching down for him, trying to help him grasp onto what's left of his sanity. 

Too bad there's none left to hold onto. 

"Barry! Stop. Barry this isn't you." The voice was still far but it was getting closer. Of course, this is me. This is me.

"Barry, please. Listen, can you do that for me real quick?" The voice was desperate and pleading. Barry thought it over, he slowed his legs to a stop. 

"Barry? You're not in your right mind Bar. Something happened earlier, this isn't you." 

Barry's vision was instantly clouded with rage, how dare the voice tell him this wasn't him. That he wasn't in his right mind. 

Barry turned fast. 

His vision edged with black because of the sudden movement. Barry's eyes scanned over the owner of the voice. A man was clad in blue spandex. The man hovered a few feet before Barry, making sure not to get too close to him. A red cape floated around his body. An 'S' symbol was proudly placed on his chest. 

Barry traveled his eyes to meet with the man's. Somewhere distantly, Barry knew that this man was familiar, but he couldn't place who he was. The man was radiating fear and both Barry, and the man were well aware of it. But what stumped him the most was how this man knew his name. Barry didn't recall knowing this man, so how would he know who he is, let alone his nickname.   
He noticed the man paled as soon as he turned around, maybe it was the alarming amount of blood smeared across his face and chest. Or maybe it was the maniacal glint in his eye. 

"Bar, oh my god Barry," the man trailed off in utter shock, "Barry please step away from the ledge." He finished as he tried but failed to compose himself. 

"W-who are you and how do you know my name," Barry demanded out of the guy, stuttering at first but growing more aggressive. 

"Barry, please step away from the edge before something happens," the man pleaded all the while ignoring his question. This aggravated Barry.

"How. Do. You. Know. My. Name," Barry punctuated every word. 

"It's me Barry, Clark. Your friend and team mate," The man looked hurt that Barry didn't recognize him. 

"Please step away from the ledge Barry, I promise you don't want to do this" Barry thought the man's voice sounded a bit watery. Almost emotional

The man was wrong, he wanted this. 

Barry wanted this. 

The ledge continued to beckon him, it called out for him. 

"I do, I want this," The firmness in Barry's voice was unwavering.

"No Barry, no you don't," The man shook his head with his eyebrows furrowed. Barry began digging his fingernails into his forearm again. He wanted this, he had to. 

"We were fighting a dangerous metahuman earlier Barry, he was causing so many deaths by striking people with psychedelic beams. It does things to a person, it makes them strive to-" the man paused for a minute trying to find a correct word, "hurt themselves Bar."

The man continued with his soft voice, "You got struck when you pushed Arthur out the way, you got hit by a heavy beam." Barry shook his head slowly. 

The tears began to drip again.

He wanted the blood to drip.

He clawed his arm harder, more beads of blood appeared. 

"No, no, no, no, no you're lying to me," Barry coughed, more blood dripped out between his lips. 

"I'm not Barry, I promise I'm not. When you got hit, you shrugged it off and said you were fine. We believed you. We were so stupid to believe it though Bar. I'm so sorry," he inched his hand out. The man wanted to touch Barry. Barry didn't want the touch. 

"Stop," Barry's voice rang suddenly. The man froze in place. 

"You're lying to me, and I know it. I want this. I do," Barry was torn, he wanted this so bad, but the man said he didn't. A small part of Barry screamed at him saying that this man was right, but he ignored himself because he had to do this.

"Barry please, please come closer to me. We're gonna fix this. Everything is going to be alright. Bruce thinks he's found something to cure it, but I just need you to come closer to me Bar," The man's voice was soft again, he was trying to hide his fear. 

Barry was at war with himself, he wanted to go to the man. He wanted to step off the ledge. He wanted the man to hug him and whisper in his ear that everything was going to be okay, that Barry was going to be okay by morning. He wanted to step back and let his body float down, like the pebble. Maybe then he would finally be at peace. 

Barry gripped his bloody hands in his hair, tugging hard. His breathing was becoming chaotic. The man stepped closer to him, this time Barry let him. 

"Please, I want this, I want this, I want this, I need this. Please let me," Barry mumbled through his sobs. The man gently touched Barry's elbow. He let him. He liked the comfort, but he didn't. He wanted to buck the man off, but he wanted to be wrapped up in his strong embrace. 

The man put both of his hands on top of Barry's, he gripped Barry's fingers as if they were fragile glass and helped him untangle them from his hair. The man didn't say anything about having Barry's blood also smeared on him. Barry continued to sob, he trailed his watery eyes to meet with the man's once again. He saw genuine remorse and guilt etched on the man's face. 

"It's going to be okay Bar, I got you. Everything's going to be okay Bar," The man spoke so softly, like he was speaking to a scared child. Which in a way he was, Barry felt like a child. He was scared and confused and just wanted to be held. He felt like he was nine again, he felt lost. 

The man placed his hand on the back of Barry's neck. He gently guided Barry's head to the crook of his neck. Barry instantly twisted his fingers in the fabric of the man's cape, he wanted the comfort. He needed the comfort. The man moved half of the cape to cover Barry's body. He felt nestled in the man, the ledge still screamed and demanded Barry to jump, but the man was Barry's safe haven. The cape felt like a blanket wrapped around his body, the man held him tightly. Silently promising to not let him go. 

"I promise, I got you Bar. I'm not gonna let you go. I'm right here," Barry was weeping now, he was sobbing like the child he felt he was in the moment. He didn't want to be let go.


End file.
